


Safety Net

by AEpixie7



Series: Ineffable Bureaucracy [20]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Aziraphale Is A Cinnamon Roll, Badass Aziraphale, Conflict Resolution, Couples Spat, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, He's seriously too good for this world, M/M, Plot, Protective Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22983817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEpixie7/pseuds/AEpixie7
Summary: In the wake of Belphegor's destruction, Gabriel and Beelzebub get into their first big argument, and it results in a new level of understanding between them. Beelzebub returns to Hell and Gabriel, with her reluctant blessing, goes to the husbands to try and find out how they achieved immunity.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Bureaucracy [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1437652
Comments: 21
Kudos: 104





	Safety Net

**Author's Note:**

> CONGRATULATIONS TO ME! PART 20 OF A STORY THAT STARTED OUT AS A SMUT ONE SHOT. Lol
> 
> *As with the last update, I'm issuing a warning for descriptions of a panic attack. Gabriel is S T R U G G L I N G.*
> 
> (Also a reminder that Crowley and Aziraphale already know about Gabriel and Beelzebub's relationship. They found out about it in part 5 of the series.)

_Safe. You're safe. Right here. With me._

_Gabriel could feel his aura open up like flood gates, as the warm, welcoming aura of another coaxed him to relax. His energy clashed with theirs for a moment, recoiling at the sudden vulnerability, before settling into a shared sense of peace. This felt familiar, this ritual. As if he'd done it a thousand times before. He focused on his physical body, now that his aura was comfortably open and trusting, and found a soft weight in his lap. He pulled the small body closer against him, and ventured his fingertips into downy feathers. First he heard the sigh of contentment, then the giggle that followed when he wiggled his fingers against their wings. In turn, he felt the delightful tingle flutter up his spine when small hands traced along the crest of his primary wings. He could feel the pulses coming off their very skin—pulses of love. He could feel it surrounding him in their aura, everywhere. His imperfections became their strength. He leaned back to look upon the face of the one he loved more than anything…_

Gabriel blinked awake, immediately frustrated with his dream. This was the second time he'd had that same dream, and he could never look upon the face of that angel. He wasn’t stupid, he had his hunches. But it was becoming increasingly clear that it was a memory, not a dream, and he _needed_ to see her. It had to be her. It had to be Beelzebub, when she was an angel. Why could he only ever see her like that in his dreams? 

Beelzebub squirmed in his arms, cuddling closer to his chest as those beautiful blue eyes drifted open. All his frustrations melted away when he looked at her, his perfect demon. He caressed through her hair just above her ear, his fingertips dipping down to where deep bruises had formed around her neck where he'd choked her. He frowned and healed them instantly, ignoring her annoyed grunt. She usually liked to wear her bruises as a badge of honor, but he couldn’t bear to look at these. They were a reminder that she had literally been through Hell, and the only thing she had wanted to cope with that was to drown it out with more pain. Pain that he had caused. 

“Bee,” he said quietly, his eyes still drinking in the sight of her as his hand absently traced the outline of her body—her shoulders, down her arm and over a hip bone. He tried to commit this moment to memory, to cherish it now that he knew what it meant to be without her. The warmth of her skin. Her soft breath against his chest, her heartbeat. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t even begin to formulate everything into words. Those six weeks without her had been undeniably the worst of his entire existence, and he could only imagine what _she_ had been through. 

“Do you… wanna tell me what happened?” he asked, once again returning to tuck a bit of her hair behind her ear. Her hand ventured weakly to grasp his wrist, pulling his hand down to press her lips sweetly against his palm. The gesture was so uncharacteristically gentle and loving that Gabriel had to suck in a quick breath to keep himself from bumbling out all sorts of sentimental nonsense. Beelzebub seemed to notice, tossing a glare his way that screamed _don't push it_ , although she trailed a kiss down to the sensitive flesh of his wrist, over the pulse point, which was understandably quickening under her unusually affectionate ministrations. She tucked his hand up against her neck and sighed into his touch, anchoring herself around his strong upper arm. He really hadn’t expected her to actually tell him what had happened in Hell, usually she just kept her traumas to herself, even to her own detriment. But for some reason, on this morning, she was very much not acting like herself. 

“I heard him screaming. Everyone did. Belphegor. The other princezzz and I… we came running when we heard the commotion. Demonzzzz are not exactly known for their loyalty but keeping the status quo benefits all of us in positions of power. So it wazz in our best interest to try and help him. By the time I got to the Pit… his wings were out and… they were dragging him down. There were hundredzz of them, tearing him apart. They… ripped his wingzzz off. They held him in the tar pits until he… he just… boiled alive…” 

“Jesus,” Gabriel whispered as he pulled her closer. He expected her to stop but the words were spilling from her now, unstoppable as the flood that carried the Ark. 

“I know it seemzzz like we're all vicious beasts but… I've never thought demonzzzz were as bad as Heaven makes us out to be. We were angelzzz once. But… watching them destroy him… tearing his wings apart and drenching their claws with his blood… it scared me, angel,” she admitted, tipping her head back and looking to her angel for reassurance, her bottom lip quivering. Gabriel hated hearing her say those words. His unshakeable Prince. She wasn’t scared of anything, she would probably swing a blade at God Herself if given the chance. But he could see it in her eyes. She was terrified. 

“Oh Bee, I’m so sorry. I hate to ask this, but where is Lucifer? Doesn’t he care about the riots? Why doesn't he put a stop to all this?” 

Beelzebub forced an annoyed puff of breath through her teeth, rolling her eyes as she began drawing shapes on Gabriel's chest with a fingertip. 

“God only knows. Literally. No one'zzz seen him since that shit show at the airbase. He'zzz still around, we hear him from time to time. Roaring somewhere in the depths. But he'zzz been throwing this tantrum for almost a year now, and the demons of Hell are starting to realize the only thing standing between them and anarchy is… us.” 

Gabriel thought over her words for a moment, his eyes wandering down to where her fingertip hovered over his heart. “And what would happen if you just… never went back?” 

Beelzebub's eyes shot up to meet Gabriel's, her expression suddenly stern and her body tensing noticeably. “That’s not an option. I can’t just run.” 

“And why not?” 

“Becauzze. I do not run. I am no coward. And what about Dagon, and Hastur, and Eric? All of them proved their worth after Belphegor was destroyed. They… didn’t have to protect me when the legions turned their sights on me but they did. I wouldn’t be alive were it not for them. Besidezzz, someone would eventually hunt me down. And I can't risk them finding you. I've probably been away too long azzz it is…” she growled as she smacked a hand out to the bedside table, snatching up her phone. Her eyes widened. 

“Fuck. We slept for three days. I have to go,” she huffed, slipping out of Gabriel's arms and leaving an absence much larger than her tiny body. 

“What, back to Hell?! You can’t be serious!” Gabriel barked, hating his own forceful tone but unable to contain his outrage. “After six weeks, the only time I get with you is spent choke fucking you and then sleeping for three days?! No, fuck that. You can't leave now. I won’t let you,” he growled as he jumped from the bed, capturing her wrist a little tighter than he’d meant to. She whipped around with red glowing in her eyes, and yanked her wrist away from him. 

“You won't _let me?!_ What am I your _property_ now?” Beelzebub seethed, snapping her fingers and willing her clothes back on. 

“You know that’s not what I meant, don't twist my words.” 

_No no no this is wrong, you’re not supposed to be fighting. Just apologize. Beg her to stay. You can’t let her leave like this._

“I just meant you can't go until we figure out a different solution if another riot breaks out. I can’t do this again. You don't understand, Bee, I was… _God_ I was a mess…” his voice broke around the lump in his throat, and he felt tears welling up. He hated this. He just wanted to drag her back to bed, back into his arms where he would never let her go. 

“And you'd have me grovel at the feet of that… _traitor_ Crowley? Azzz if I don't already know what you and I have done izz the same damn thing he did? Humiliating. I refuzzzze.” 

Gabriel was trying to be patient but her _damn pride_. 

“What’s your solution then?! Just go back down there and watch them pick off the other Princes until it's you they come for?! You're smarter than that, come on, Bee.” 

“Fuck you, Gabriel. I can handle myself. I’ve fought off coup attempts before.” 

“But you said yourself this scared you! Nothing scares you! If _you're_ scared then you have a damn good reason to be! How can you walk back into that?!” 

“Don’t do that! I told you that because I trusted you, now you’re using my own weakness against me! You're no better than a demon.” 

“DAMMIT BEE I'm only saying this because I love you and I can’t go through this again, I can’t! You have no idea what I went through!” 

“Oh right, I'm sure it was awful for you, up in your pristine office, surrounded by literal _Heaven_. Must've been _terrible_ while I was slashing through demons with my bare claws and slugging through their entrails.” 

Gabriel straightened and bit back his retort, her words stinging too much for him to even defend himself. She knew what it was like for him in Heaven. No it wasn’t as obvious on the surface, but those white walls could be hell, just as much as her dark corridors. From the look on her face, she did know it, and she knew how deeply her words had cut. Her chin quivered almost imperceptibly, before she steeled herself and balled her hands up into fists. 

“I'm leaving.” 

She turned to head for the door, and Gabriel could feel everything coming unraveled. The last bit of strength he'd mustered to keep himself together was ripped out when she turned to leave him there. 

“Bee stop,” he pleaded, stumbling after her. He grabbed for her hand but she kept walking and yanked it away. Gabriel could feel his wings manifest unintentionally, his golden marks burning white hot on his shoulder. He once again reached for her hand and grabbed it, falling to his knees and choking on a sob. 

“Please Bee, please don't go. Forget everything I said, just please stay,” he begged, clamping his hand around hers when she tried to pull away again. 

“Gabriel, I have to go,” she tried to say with conviction, but her own voice was breaking. She refused to look down at him, simply stared straight ahead. 

“I can't do this, Bee. I can't. Please, I'll do anything,” he released her hand and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back toward him and crying into her coat. She was trying her hardest to remain indifferent, but feeling him shaking uncontrollably, on his knees and begging like that… she could feel her resolve cracking. She could have left him in anger, but how could she leave him like this? 

Dammit all. She was trying to be the strong one. To do what had to be done. She _had_ to go back to Hell. The longer she was gone, the weaker her position became in Hell and the more suspicion would rain down on her. It was only a matter of time until one of those demons followed her to Earth and she couldn’t risk Gabriel. But as she heard him start to beg in Enochian, his hands clenching around fistfuls of her coat, something inside her broke clear in half. 

She brought a hand down to gently caress his hair, her anger and rage clearing like a fog, so she could truly see him. His angelic marks were flickering with light and his wings were trembling. How could she have broken her beautiful angel like this? She had never felt more like a horrid, worthless demon. 

“Angel…” she choked, dropping to her knees and throwing her arms around his neck. He gasped against her and held her so tightly, it actually hurt. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. I know what it must have been like for you. I didn’t mean it, forgive me.” 

“Of course I do, I forgive you just _please don't go_ …” 

“I’m not, I'm right here. It's okay,” she tried to comfort him but his breaths were coming too fast and his shaking only seemed to be getting worse. _He’s panicking_. 

As if to drive that realization home, she yelped when she felt his golden marks burning her. She pulled back to look at her coat sleeve, which was singed where his Holy energy had burned straight through to her skin. 

“Fuck! I'm sorry, Bee, _shit_ ,” he mumbled as he tried to cover his own marks with his hand, a sight that nearly broke Beelzebub's heart. She'd only ever seen him glow like that when he was happy, this was just the opposite. He was still crying and gasping, trying desperately to cover the one part of himself he should never be ashamed of. She had to do something. 

She pushed gently on his chest and lowered him to sit on the floor. She crawled into his lap and unfurled her own wings, all six of them, and grabbed his wrists, forcing his arms behind her, where he latched on to her wings like a vice. She did the same, her arms wrapped around him and her fingers stroking as gently as possible through his feathers, his heartbeat thundering wildly when she pressed her chest to his. 

“Bee, what…” he choked, but she cut him off. 

“Hush. Just shut up and do what I do,” she barked, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do. She took a deep breath and opened up her aura, enveloping Gabriel with it and nudging up against his, thrumming with anxiety. His defenses were weak at best, and broke the moment she grazed them. His aura opened up completely, and they both gasped at the rush of memory and emotion that bombarded them. She could feel his panic coursing through her veins, could see the walls of Heaven, tall and imposing as the Metatron spoke in the distance. Everything was too bright, too exposed, _not safe_. She could see and feel everything, six weeks’ worth of crippling fear. Tears fell freely as she watched him slowly fall apart without her, until all he could do was work himself to the bone, trying to replace thoughts of her with _anything else_. 

She had never expected to trust anyone enough allow them to see inside her soul, but she knew he could see her just as clearly as she could see him. The moment Belphegor's last scream was drowned in tar and Hellfire, and thousands of demons had turned their glowing red eyes on her. He could feel the soul-crushing terror when they began crawling from the pit, coming for her. He could even see her deepest, darkest fear, which had frozen her in place, even as Dagon screamed at her to run. She wasn’t afraid for herself, or her position, or even the demons under her command who were now fighting with their own claws to protect her. All she could think about was Gabriel. The thought of running from this horror and straight into his arms, only to have Hell tear him away from her and into the pit, those gorgeous white wings ripped from his back. Being made to watch as the light of his grace went dark, his screams drowned out by the inferno. And finally the horrifying truth—that if Gabriel were ever destroyed, she would walk willingly into that inferno after him. The legions of Hell had only to discover this one simple weakness to destroy her completely. 

“Bee…” Gabriel choked, his breathing slowed considerably. She could feel his tears dripping down onto her shoulder, his cheek nuzzling against her hair. He kissed the top of her head, his heartbeat slowing as his hands released their death grip on her wings, his fingers instead combing through her feathers and simultaneously soothing all that buzzing worry that swarmed throughout her aura. She did the same, her fingertips tracing over the top edge of his primary wings and noting how his body and aura relaxed exponentially as she did so. 

“How did you know?” he whispered, his wings fluttering and offering up new territory for her to touch. 

She was about to ask him what the hell he was talking about, but she received her answer immediately, almost the same way she received direct orders from Satan straight into her brain. With her aura mingling like this with his, it was almost as if they didn’t need to speak. She could understand everything he was thinking and feeling. _How did you know about my dream?_

She sucked in a breath and leaned back, letting her memory play back for him the thousands of times she'd had that same dream, for millennia. Of sitting just like this, with someone whose love saturated her entire being, and sharing everything down to her very soul with them. Of trying to see their face but waking to her own frustration and anger every time she tried. _A memory she wasn't supposed to have._

She searched Gabriel's memory for every instance of the dream and found it only twice. The last two times he'd slept. _When they were sharing his aura._

“It isn't your dream, Gabriel, it's mine,” she said quietly, one hand reaching up to card through his hair before settling at the base of his neck. She tucked her head into the side of his neck to hide the emotions playing over her face, her wings spreading out to her sides and brushing Gabriel's. He did exactly as she'd felt a thousand times in her dream—pressed his wings against hers and cradled her, in every sense of the word, against him. He had seen inside her soul and instead of recoiling from it, he sought to bring it closer. Even with everything that had happened, this moment, this _feeling_ , was safe. 

“Do you understand why I have to go back?” she asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Gabriel answered, his fingertips caressing down either side of her spine and making her sigh. “Do you… understand why I think we need to get Crowley and Aziraphale's help?” he asked tentatively, his body tensing when he felt her visceral reaction to even hearing the traitors' names spoken aloud. She relaxed as she took a deep breath, forcing herself to recall exactly the kind of panic she'd felt when Gabriel's aura opened up. Panic that could be avoided in the future if only they had some kind of safeguard. _Immunity._

“I guess,” she grumbled, still hesitant to concede that particular point. 

“Bee it feels like I'm drowning and I can only breathe again when I'm with you. Believe me, I don’t want to have to go to them for help either, but this might be our only lifeline. I don’t know how much longer I can tread water,” he said, and only then did Beelzebub realize how tired he looked. The three days' sleep had done very little for his shadowed eyes. 

“I know, angel,” she said softly, once again combing her fingertips through his hair. “But you have no idea how humiliating that soundzzz. After how I treated him at hizzz trial…” 

Gabriel snorted and rolled his eyes. “It cannot possibly be worse than what I did. I would have to look that ridiculous Principality in the face, after not-so-kindly telling him to _fuck off and die_ , and beg for his help.” 

Beelzebub pursed her lips together to keep from smiling, altogether failing when a chuckle slipped out. 

“Did you seriously?” she asked with a red-cheeked grin. 

“Yes! You really doubt me? After all the dumb shit I've said in front of you? Honestly, God cursed me with this stupid mouth…” 

“Hey, I like that stupid mouth,” Beelzebub said, tracing his bottom lip with her thumb before leaning forward to kiss it. Gabriel whined quietly into the kiss, letting out a long sigh when Beelzebub broke from his lips to rest her forehead against his. 

“If you're going to go to the traitorzzz, I can’t go with you. I have to get back, before they come looking for me.” 

“You sure you're not just using that as an excuse so you don't have to embarrass yourself in front of Crowley?” he asked, wincing when she pinched his nipple. 

“How dare you accuzzze me like that. What do you think I am? A demon?” she teased, taking a deep breath and tucking her head against his chest, content to remain here quietly with him for a little longer. She could feel that nagging anxiety tugging at her to get back to Hell before she jeopardized everything she cared about, but she could also feel the many lesions in Gabriel's aura. It was peppered with them—emotional traumas here and there, the most recent of which had been caused by her words. But when she wrapped him in her own aura, ragged and withered as it was, they were both whole. If only for this moment. 

She didn’t know how long she stayed, but when she pulled back and cautiously withdrew her aura, Gabriel's seemed strengthened. He felt renewed. Closer to the confident angel she'd fallen in love with. She crawled reluctantly from his lap, Gabriel groaning at the loss. He slowly stood, miracling his own suit and tie and grumpily adjusting his cufflinks. 

“You okay?” she asked quietly. His answering smile was warm and handsome. 

“Yeah, Bee. I am now. Thanks.” 

She rubbed his arm and kissed his cheek, before turning slowly to head for the door. 

“One thing that’zzzz been bothering me,” she said mischievously, turning back toward Gabriel and halting in the threshold of the bedroom door, watching his eyebrows creep up with worry. 

“Did you really buy some trashy human porn and have a sad wank in a hotel room?” 

Gabriel blushed bright red and covered his face with one large hand. “Really? That’s your takeaway from everything you saw in my memories?” 

Beelzebub giggled and shrugged, admiring his adorable blushing face. “I'm just concerned about your taste in porn. If I'd known you were interested in that sort of thing, I could’ve shown you the good stuff.” 

“I am _not_ interested in porn, I was just lonely and missing you... wait you watch porn? What kind of porn? What's _'the good stuff?_ ’” he asked, horrified when she stepped out into the hallway. 

“Thought you weren’t interested?” she teased with a wink, disappearing down the hall. He chased after her and caught her in the hallway, pinning her against the wall and kissing her breathless. He watched her smiling for a moment and cradled her neck, before his expression grew serious. 

“Listen. I am letting you go back down there only because you're letting me go to Crowley and Aziraphale for help. But this time, if something happens, promise me you'll get out of there.” 

“Gabriel we've been over this, I can't risk someone finding you, or this place…” 

“Fine. Don’t come here. Just… grab Dagon and get out of there. _Please_. Because if it happens again, I can't promise I'll be able to stop myself from coming down there to rescue you myself. And we both know that won't end well. Got it?” 

Beelzebub considered for a moment, then nodded. Gabriel leaned down to kiss her again, and this time, he made sure it was one he would remember. 

“I love you,” he breathed against her lips, brushing her cheek with his knuckles. She groaned, and the next thing he knew she had disappeared in a puff of smoke and fire that left a charred mark on the carpet. He growled loudly and let his forehead fall roughly against the wall. He hoped she would say it back. He hoped she would give him one more kiss, or even better, tuck those tiny hands up his shirt and drag him back to bed. He should’ve known better. 

_Fucking demon._

*** 

Gabriel had been so sure of everything before Armageddon. God's Great Plan. His own part to play in it. How he was supposed to feel about demons and, more importantly, any angel who was foolish enough to think their hereditary enemies were capable of love. Now look at him. Plan-less. Purposeless. And hopelessly in love with a demon. And the most recent test of his convictions? Standing beneath the storefront of A.Z. Fell & Co., feeling completely _clueless_ about what he could even say to its proprietor. 

_Aziraphale! It's me, your ex boss! You know, the one whose managerial practices were questionable at best? I have no excuse, other than… I've got an ego and it blotted out everything you ever tried to tell me like a damn solar eclipse. It turns out you were right all along, and oh yeah, I fell in love with a demon too. Funny how life works out. So, sorry I tried to have you killed, can we chat for a minute?_

_Fuck._

“Humility is a virtue, Gabriel,” he pep-talked to himself. “Not one you practice very often, but you are an angel. You wouldn’t still _be_ an angel if the Almighty didn’t still have a little faith in you.” 

He snapped his jaw closed and thought for a moment, his eyes turning up toward the clouds. “You do… still have faith in me… right?” 

Ominous thunder rolled in the distance. 

“That’s comforting,” he sassed. 

He sighed dramatically and shoved his hands in his pockets, even though he was perfectly aware he should just knock and get it over with already. It was after hours (if this particular bookshop was even said to _have_ hours), and although the lights were out in the front of the shop, Gabriel could still feel the celestial presence. Before Armageddon he would have simply let himself in. Privacy was nearly nonexistent among angels, because what could any of them have to hide? 

A whole hell of a lot, it turns out. 

Now it just felt as if his very presence back in Aziraphale's life was intrusive in itself. Gabriel had only spent the last year slowly tumbling head over heels for Beelzebub. Aziraphale had spent the better part of _eternity_ with that traitor… 

_Crowley. His name is Crowley. If you really want their help, you're going to have to accept that you were wrong about the Great Plan, and they were right. For all intents and purposes, **you** are the traitor._

“Ineffable,” he muttered grumpily to himself, finally bringing his hand up to rap three times against the plate glass in front of him. For a moment he stood petrified, his heart pounding unnecessarily in his chest. Finally a call met his ears from the back of the shop, a mousy “We’re closed! Come back tomorrow!” 

_Just turn around. Walk away. This was a stupid idea. He'll never know if you just leave now…_

Beelzebub's pretty blue eyes appeared inconveniently in his mind. He had to protect her. He had to at least try to find out how Crowley and Aziraphale achieved immunity. Even if they refused to help, which they probably would and had every right to, at least he would know he had done everything in his power to protect her. 

“It’s me,” he called, his voice cracking embarrassingly. He cleared his throat and fidgeted. “It’s me, Aziraphale. It's Gabriel.” 

There was a moment of silence before a loud crash of breaking glass, followed by arguing in hushed tones. The deadbolt clicked and the door opened barely a crack, Aziraphale peeking out as if the only reason he'd opened the door was to be sure his ears hadn't deceived him. 

“Oh! G-Gabriel! It _is_ you!” he blubbered, jumping when a hand shot out in front of his face and grabbed the door. 

“Nope,” came a voice from just inside the shop, and the door slammed abruptly in Gabriel's face. 

Well there was always that possibility. 

_“Now Crowley, what did you do that for? That was rather rude.”_ —Gabriel heard Aziraphale urge from just on the other side of the door. 

_“It's the Arch-wanker Gabriel. He bloody deserves it.”_

_“You make a compelling argument, dear, but now **I** look like the rude one.” _

_“Who cares? You don’t work for him anymore. You could open that door and kick him in the bollocks and he couldn’t say a damn thing about it.”_

_“Crowley! He can probably hear us!”_

“I can,” Gabriel said loudly with a shake of his head, glancing around and forcing an awkward smile at a human pedestrian who was scrutinizing what appeared to be a well-dressed American man yelling through the door of a bookshop that had been closed for hours. 

When he turned back the door was once again open, wider this time, and Aziraphale stood calmly while Crowley prowled predatorily behind him. The serpent's eyes were uncovered, Gabriel noted. He gulped down a nervous bubble of energy. 

“Is there something I can do for you, Gabriel?” Aziraphale asked politely, though his eyes did not convey the same manners. Gabriel couldn’t decide whose eyes were more intimidating at the moment—Crowley’s… or Aziraphale's. 

“Yes, actually. Um… can I… come in?” Gabriel asked. Crowley answered before Aziraphale could even open his mouth. 

“No.” 

Aziraphale shot him a reproachful look, before turning back toward the Archangel. He didn’t seem inclined to acquiesce, but stepped back eventually and motioned for Gabriel to enter, who stepped inside with a quiet “thank you.” His eyes flickered nervously to where Crowley stood deathly still, his serpentine eyes following Gabriel like he was nothing but doomed prey. 

“I apologize for the intrusion. I wouldn’t be here were it not… a dire situation,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling suddenly very small, regardless of his imposing height. Aziraphale seemed to sense his unease, the coldness of his gaze softening slightly. 

“Why don’t you come to the erm, back room. I'll make tea.” 

“Oh, none for me, thank you, Aziraphale. I'll… try to make this… brief,” he stuttered, attempting to be as polite as possible but the serpent hadn’t stopped staring at him. It was unnerving, to say the least. Gabriel followed Aziraphale into the private rooms in the back, still feeling hunted when Crowley followed behind him. Aziraphale busied himself with the tea kettle anyway. 

“So. To what do I owe the… unexpected visit this evening, Gabriel?” Aziraphale asked, his eyes flickering back toward Crowley. 

Gabriel approached the small kitchen table and motioned toward one of the chairs. This was going to be a very delicate conversation. Best to make himself as unthreatening as possible. “May I?” 

Aziraphale nodded and finished setting the kettle on the stove, approaching Crowley's side and electing to stand next to the demon, rather than sit. Gabriel took his seat and wiped his face, sighing dejectedly as he did so. He leaned on his elbows on the table, his fingers intertwined as he looked up at the odd couple that had literally flipped his entire world upside down. _Here goes._

“I take it… neither of you has heard what’s going on in Hell?” he asked. 

“Not my circus, not my monkeys anymore. Don't care,” Crowley snapped, his body leaning almost imperceptibly closer to his angel. 

“Well you should. It won’t be long before it impacts all of us. Even humanity.” 

Aziraphale's brows furrowed, and his hand dropped to wrap around Crowley's wrist. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

“One of the Princes was destroyed six weeks ago.” 

Aziraphale audibly gasped and clamped his hand tighter around Crowley's wrist, the demon's only reaction being a slight widening of his golden eyes. 

“Oh, gracious! It… it wasn’t…” Aziraphale asked, taking a small step forward as if he wanted to comfort Gabriel, before realizing what he'd done, and to whom. He dithered and stepped back by Crowley's side. 

“No, thank God,” Gabriel said, wincing at his word choice. “But… if the riots that followed Belphegor's destruction are any indication, the other six Princes only have… so much time before…” his throat closed up when he tried to finish that sentence. 

“Good. Serves 'em right, the lot of them,” Crowley muttered. 

Gabriel had built up a wall as best he could, which was supposed to contain all those abrasive comments he would normally make in this situation, for the sake of achieving his goal. And it crumbled in an instant. He slammed his hands down on the table and stood, all six wings manifesting behind him. 

“Watch your tongue, snake!” he shouted, his eyes glowing white with the threat of a good smiting. 

“Go ahead, smite me, tosser, see how that goes for you,” Crowley hissed, but Aziraphale quickly grabbed his upper arm, a worried expression on his face as he pulled Crowley behind him, as if to shield him from Gabriel. 

“Both of you, that's enough. Gabriel, I must insist that you control yourself under my roof. My patience for this kind of nonsense is thin as it stands,” Aziraphale said sternly, his jaw set with much more confidence than Gabriel ever remembered seeing from the Principality. 

_Well done. You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut could you? Couldn’t get along with the serpent for a few measly minutes? Fucking pathetic. They'll never help you now. You failed. This was your last hope to protect Beelzebub, and now you have to look her in the eyes and tell her she'll never be safe. Because of you._

“Fuck!” Gabriel cursed, shoving away from the dining table and pacing the back room, his hands fisted in his hair. He tried to will his wings away, but they remained. _Oh god not again, not now…_

“I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. I should’ve known better. As if either of you would ever help me, or her. Desperation, I guess, makes us stupid. But I was stupid to begin with, right? Stupid enough to think I knew God's plan. Stupid enough to judge you for loving a demon. _Love!_ What kind of an angel thinks _love_ is something to scowl at?! We're angels, it’s literally what we were made for! And then I was stupid enough to go and do the same fucking thing. Maybe she'd be better off if I'd never loved her…” 

Gabriel jumped when a hand came to rest gently on his shoulder. He stopped his pacing and dropped his arms at his sides, his amethyst eyes meeting a warm pair of baby blues. Aziraphale held his shoulder and gave him a few moments to compose himself. 

“Gabriel. It's alright. Sit down, let's talk about this. I can’t promise anything, but I promise I will listen,” he said quietly, squeezing Gabriel's shoulder once. Gabriel's heart hurt all of a sudden. He didn’t deserve this pure soul. 

“Thank… thank you, Aziraphale,” he said earnestly, his fellow angel gracing him with a kind smile before he turned back and fetched a cup of tea from the kettle, then took a seat at the table. He held his hand out to Crowley. 

“Come dear. Sit with me.” 

Crowley stood staring at his angel's hand for a moment, his eyes flickering up at the Archangel with no small amount of suspicion. He still decided to take the seat next to Aziraphale, his angel's hand pulled into his and resting in his lap. “Well he got one thing right. Sure is stupid,” Crowley mumbled. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes but ignored the comment, his wings dissipating with a final bit of effort. He took the seat across from Aziraphale and sighed. 

“I can act like I'm here for the greater good all I want. It's the truth that with all the Princes destroyed, Hell will descend into anarchy. Lucifer is AWOL. Demons will run rampant on Earth, and with no supervision, who knows what they could do. It could be Armageddon all over again, and as surprising as it sounds, I don’t actually want that anymore. But if I'm being perfectly honest, I'm here for selfish reasons. Bee…” his voice broke when he tried to say her name. 

“ _The Prince_ is… well. I won’t be modest about it. I love her, more than anything, and I…” his voice broke again and he sniffed against the threat of tears. “I can't imagine if… if anything happened to her…” 

_Are you seriously crying in front of them? Bee was right. This is humiliating._

“Gabriel,” Aziraphale soothed, turning to look lovingly at Crowley. “Believe me. I understand.” 

Gabriel took a deep breath, as one does before a giant leap. _Moment of truth._

“Well. That’s… um. That's why I'm here. I need to know… how you two survived your trials.” 

Crowley and Aziraphale stared at him for agonizing moments. Aziraphale opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it again. He turned to look at Crowley, and the demon spoke. 

“Get out.” 

Aziraphale started at him. “Crowley!” 

The demon shot up from the table, the veins visible on the sides of his neck. 

“Don’t tell me you’re actually considering it?! You can’t have fallen for this romantic sappy _bullshit!_ I did not spend _six thousand years_ orbiting you, chasing you, spoiling you… always afraid, always running, always hiding… to finally find an escape from the oppressive _nightmare_ of both our sides… only to have this, this… heartless, deluded _bully_ bat his ridiculous purple eyes at you and undo everything we've built. I defied Satan himself to build our safety net and I'll be damned a second time if I _ever_ let anyone tear it down.” 

Aziraphale swallowed hard, glancing back at Gabriel before standing and cradling Crowley's face between his hands. His thumb wiped away an angry tear from Crowley's cheek. 

“Crowley, dear, it's alright,” he whispered, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to Crowley's lips, the gesture so intimate that Gabriel averted his eyes out of decency. 

“I wasn’t going to tell him,” Aziraphale reassured his demon, waiting until Crowley swallowed down his panic and nodded, before turning back toward the Archangel. “I… I'm sorry Gabriel. I just… can't risk Crowley's safety like that. I feel for you, I really do, but you'll forgive me, thousands of years of… _you_ has left me with a distrust that can’t be mended in one day.” 

Gabriel swallowed and nodded. He stood, buttoning his jacket and steeling himself. Somewhere deep down, he’d always known the damage he'd done to Aziraphale. He circled back around to that realization he'd had, standing in the rain outside the bookshop weeks ago. _You don’t deserve their help._

“I understand. While it was always a long shot, I had to try. I couldn’t live with myself if I hadn’t exhausted all options. Sorry to bother you.” 

He turned quickly to leave before the inevitable emotional breakdown happened in front of them. Aziraphale stuttered, stepping away from Crowley even as Gabriel whisked quickly out of the back room. 

“Now, Gabriel, wait. Perhaps we can help in some other way!” he called after the Archangel, but he had already stepped out the bookshop's front door and closed it behind him. 

_Now what do I do?_ Gabriel thought as he stalked down the street. This had been his last ditch effort. Beelzebub refused to run, so that wasn’t an option. Nobody knew where Satan was, so she couldn’t very well ask him for help keeping control of the legions, and even if she could, he'd probably tell her to deal with it herself, if she were a demon worth her weight in flesh. And God? Could Gabriel even ask the Almighty for help, when it involved a Fallen? Would She listen to his plea? Or would She fell him on the spot for fraternizing with the enemy. 

So. 

What now? 

_I need a fucking drink, that’s what._

He shambled into the first pub he found, disregarding his usual standards for the promise of alcohol. He found a booth in a darker corner and collapsed into it, ordering a scotch and water and requesting privacy from the server. He needed time to _think._

He hadn’t even touched his drink when a prissy blonde Principality slid into the seat across the table, conspicuously sans demon. Gabriel straightened in surprise, glancing around in search of the wily serpent he was sure would be prowling somewhere nearby. 

“I came alone, Gabriel. While I maintain everything I said, I insisted it was necessary to speak with you in private. As angels.” 

Gabriel scrutinized his counterpart for a moment, before settling back into the plush cushion of the booth and swirling his drink. “No explanation necessary, Aziraphale. Were I in your shoes and it was Beelzebub I was protecting… no force in Heaven or Hell could break me of that.” 

Aziraphale watched him as he sipped his drink, a strange kind of reserved empathy rippling in his eyes. 

“You love her,” Aziraphale said. It wasn’t a question. Gabriel's chin quivered and he took another large gulp of his drink and nodded. 

“I do. Very much.” 

"I felt the need to explain, without Crowley, because he's just… so very protective, which I adore him for but he's very driven by fear. It's all the demons of Hell have ever known. I'm sure you've seen the symptoms of that yourself, in Beelzebub. He… reacts viscerally to perceived threats, especially where I am involved. He's very snakelike, in that regard. Strike first, before they strike you. But he couldn’t feel the love around you that I could. So I believe every word you said. I believe you really did come to us out of desperation. I _want_ to believe that if I told you how Crowley and I survived our trials, you would only use that information to protect the one you love. But… if it comes down to a choice, Crowley is where my loyalties lie. He’s all that matters now. We're… _on our own side_. As it were.” 

“Look, I get it, Aziraphale. If I had found a way to protect Beelzebub from everything that could ever hurt her, you bet your ass I'd keep that secret to my dying breath. And we've only been... _involved_ for a year. You've spent six millennia with the serpent and I can't even imagine what you've been through together. What... _I've_ put you through. And for what it's worth, which is probably jack shit... I'm sorry for that. I've come to realize that, the things I've lost, whether I even remember them or not, left me bitter and angry and alone, and, I dunno, maybe on some level I always knew what was going on between you and Crowley. Maybe I saw something in you that I didn't think I could ever be. Inferiority isn't a feeling I've often had to experience, and clearly I... didn't handle it well. Maybe I'm just making excuses. Maybe I'm just an asshole and that's all I'll ever be. But when I’m with her, it's… well, I hate the word but it’s kind of… ineffable. If..." he had to stop momentarily, to smile fondly at his next thought. 

"If you'd told me a year ago that a _demon_ would make me a better angel, I'd have laughed in your face. But she has. I feel like a piece of me has been missing and now that I've found it, I…” 

His voice trembled and he swiped a hand angrily against his cheek when he felt wetness there. “I’m gonna cling to that. With everything I have. Even if she takes me down with her.” 

Aziraphale watched him for a long moment, eventually letting out a long sigh and ticking his fingers against the table absently. 

“Well, Gabriel… I'm sorry to hear that. But, if it’s any consolation, the solution that Crowley and I found… I believe it only worked because we've known each other for so long.” 

Gabriel seemed annoyed at the tease of information, but eventually let it go and smiled. “So I should’ve fucked a demon a long time ago, that's what you're saying?” 

“Precisely,” Aziraphale beamed, and for the first time since The Beginning, he shared a genuine laugh with the Archangel Gabriel. 

Gabriel downed the rest of his drink, tapping a finger against the glass as he considered the angel sitting primly across from him. “Tell you what. Why don’t you let me buy you dinner? It’s the least I could do for… crashing your Thursday evening. Consider it a sign of good faith.” 

Aziraphale blinked at him a few times, then waved the server over. “I could never say no to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno, there's just something so genuine about Gabriel offering to treat Aziraphale to a meal. Something Gabriel himself doesn't enjoy or really understand, but he knows Aziraphale does.
> 
> Now WHY did I feel the need to give Gabriel a redemption arc?! I already did that once in my Fallen Gabriel fic! IDK y'all, this fic has become sentient. It's taken off in directions I never saw coming and now I'm just the hopeless vessel that spews its nonsense upon the world.


End file.
